


Nothing Lasts Forever

by turnitoffmckinley



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst, Death, Drabble, F/M, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, brief mentions of sex, infections, zombie apocalypse!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnitoffmckinley/pseuds/turnitoffmckinley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor watches the decaying fields of wheat roll by endlessly from the passenger seat of Kevin’s dirt covered punch-buggy. Well, it’s not really Kevin’s punch-buggy. It’s Arnold’s.</p><p> </p><p>’Was Arnold’s,’ he thinks, hugging his knees to his chest. He tries not to think about Arnold’s final moments. Their entire group of friends- obliterated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Lasts Forever

Connor watches the decaying fields of wheat roll by endlessly from the passenger seat of Kevin's dirt covered punch-buggy. Well, it's not really _Kevin's_ punch-buggy. It's Arnold's.

' _Was_ Arnold's,' he thinks, hugging his knees to his chest. He tries not to think about Arnold's final moments. Their entire group of friends- obliterated. 

Connor and Kevin... Kevin had cried, Connor remembers... he remembers Kevin screaming for Arnold to run, but he wasn't fast enough, and Naba wouldn't leave him. No, she never would have left him behind. But the swarm was so fast, and Kevin couldn't- he-

'Stop. Breathe.' And he does, taking in a nervous breath. He glances over to the fuel tank. They're on their way to South Dakota- there is a fuel station there somewhere. At least, the last time Connor saw a sign it said "South Dakota - 70 miles." 

To be frank, Connor actually isn't sure of _where_ they are going. He hasn't bothered to ask Kevin, whose eyes are still red and weary. He'd probably cried the entire trip. Connor can do nothing but hold his hand across the dash, as they both mourn in silence.

.::.

They stop at a quiet diner. Most of the folks here haven't fled yet to other countries for safety. The news stations still work here. There's electricity, and food. It's almost embarrassing how Connor's stomach growls- but before this, they had been in Ohio, and there were undead _everywhere_ , so needless to say, supplies were limited.

Kevin eats in small, tentative bites as his boyfriend plows through a juicy burger. Connor senses his nervousness, and it only sets him in uneasiness. Kevin doesn't meet his eyes. He merely picks at his fries with his fork, rearranging his meal on his plate. 

"Hun, don't play with your food." Connor says, offering a worried smile. Kevin doesn't smile back.

"Sorry," he mutters, "I'm just not very hungry."

Kevin gets a to-go box. When he doesn't even eat _that_ , he panics, eyes wide as saucers, when Connor asks for it. Connor doesn't ask for his food again. Connor doesn't ask questions from his boyfriend, and Connor turns off his problems.

.::.

Their temporary relocation to South Dakota only lasts a few days, as undead caught up, rampage, and rip the town into shreds. 

It's been a cycle. Kevin grabs Connor's hand, packs up whatever he can in a fluster, and ushers him into the punch-buggy-that-once-was-Arnold's-but-now-he's-dead, and they drive off into uncertainty. 

"Kevin," Connor murmurs through his heavy exhaustion, "where are we going?"

"I don't know." Kevin says. It's all he ever says now. 

"Are we gonna be okay?" 

He knows this is a hard question, but... he needs to know.

Kevin wipes his sore, red-rimmed eyes with the back of his hand.

"You're going to be alright, I promise." he says, his throat aching with grief.

"You didn't answer my question. I said, are _we_ going to be okay?"

Kevin doesn't answer for a long time, and the anxiety settles in Connor's gut like a stone. 

"Yeah. We'll be okay."

.::.

Weeks pass since they first fled their college dorms in a desperate attempt to escape the oncoming apocalypse. 

Kevin's different. He never smiles anymore. He never kisses Connor. He rarely touches him at all, seeming hesitant and distant at every approach.

One night, Connor offers _sex_ of all things. They find shelter in a small Montana motel, and it lasts nearly 3 weeks zombie-free, that he finds himself aching and missing their bedroom activities. But Kevin turns it down, with a weak shake of his head and his hands wringing uncomfortably in his lap.

They spent that night on opposite sides of the bed.

The only solace they find is in Disney films. They don't bring Kevin any joy or happiness, because even Connor knows that _nothing_ about this situation is inspiring or to be glorified. However, it's on quiet nights, when Kevin curls up against Connor, the TV on with all his childhood films on- that Connor is reminded of the glowing beacon of _hope_. It's there.

He clings to Kevin tightly. He will not lose him. He does not know how to go on now without him.

.::.

"You look pale," Connor notes one day. "You look... like a... a zombie, Kev."

Kevin offers a ghost of a smile, the most he can manage these days. It's the middle of autumn, and his ugly blue sweater hangs over his shoulders like a drape on a corpse. 

"Yeah. I guess I do."

.::.

"You're leaving me?"

Connor is so angry he could slap his stupid boyfriend right now- but he doesn't, he clenches his fists and lets them rest at his sides on the motel mattress.

Kevin is crying again- Connor's never seen him cry so much in his life before the apocalypse, but his cheeks are flush and his face contorted painfully, as if he were straining with every word.

"You'll be safer this way." Kevin pleads. That's all it takes for Connor to burst into raging sobs, covering his face with his hands. 

He shudders violently when Kevin's hand brushes his knee, and jerks away from the contact.

"Con... please, hear me out-"

"Why are you doing this?" Connor screeches so loud it could pierce someone's eardrums. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"What? No, I do love you. That's why... that's why I think you'll be safe here." Kevin insists, his voice breaking with his heart all at once. 

Connor shakes his head, feeling disgust and hurt bubbling from within him like an open wound.

"So... so you love me, but you're leaving me all alone here? Some romance." Connor hisses between gasps for breath, his body still shaking horrendously from his outburst of tears. 

With a gulp, Kevin takes a step back, looking down at his hands with growing anxiety.

"I'm sorry. But, you deserve better."

"So did Arnold, but you ran away from him too, now didn't you?"

The words tumble out of Connor's mouth before he can even process them. Kevin just stands there, but the look in his eyes say it all. 

Mortified, Connor lets out another sob, and hugs his arms around himself.

"I-"

"Don't even start with me, Kevin Price. I _watched him die_ , do you know that? And Naba- my best friend got her face ripped off! I almost... I almost died too. But maybe death wouldn't be so bad, when we keep running in circles like we are. How long do you really think this place will be safe?" Connor yells, interrupting Kevin.

The brunette's head hangs low, and he shakes it slowly.

"I..." he starts, but trails off, unable to find the words. Connor flinches immediately, dissolving into another fit of sobs.

It was going to be a long night.

.::.

Connor refuses to let Kevin leave him with no explanation. Kevin does his best to reassure his boyfriend of his affections. Unfortunately, that is not well executed. His boyfriend rebuffs every advance with sharp distrust and grief.

Abruptly, Connor begins turning it off again, shutting himself off emotionally. Both are afraid to admit, it seems, that they can't live without the other.

"Your hair isn't soft anymore," Connor comments, running his fingers through Kevin's dark locks. "I never see you eating anything, either."

"Mm' not hungry," Kevin mumbles back, his eyes glued to the news station. The headliner of the day reads: "BREAKING NEWS: ZOMBIE DEATH TOLL DRAMATICALLY RISING."

Kevin turns the television off, and rubs at his sweater-covered arms again. He can't bear to look at it any longer. Not when it serves as a reminder of what had been _done_.

He does not sleep well that night. He watches Connor sleep on the bed beside him, and itches at his arm. Connor was always such an unusual sleeper, often lying in what Kevin would consider rather uncomfortable positions.

Trailing off to the bathroom, he rolls up the sleeve, and immediately winces.

It was getting _worse_ than he had thought.

.::.

Kevin caves in eventually to kisses and handholding. The kisses are always on Connor's cheek, never on the lips. 

The closest they get to any sex is a hand job. Kevin delivers it, fully clothes, and relishes in the sweet whines and moans that Connor makes with every touch and jerk of his hand. But in the post-coital haze, when his boyfriend offers to _return the favor_ , he softly declines. 

He pecks Connor's cheek gently, and settles in for the night.

.::.

"Kevin?" 

Connor knocks gently on the bathroom door. His boyfriend had vanished into it at the middle of the night, the flickering motel light filtering through the slit at the bottom of the door the only sign of life from within.

"Honey, are you alright?" he calls. It's been nearly 2 hours now, and the brunette hadn't made a reappearance yet.

With a moment of hesitation, he knocks again.

"Kevin, please," he says, "was... was I too much? I don't ever wanna push you into anything, okay? Please let me in." 

He gets no response at first, but he hears Kevin let out a keening cry. Without a moment to spare, Connor decides to open the door himself. It isn't locked.

"Kevin, I-"

He stops.

Both of their eyes are wide. 

Kevin looks up from his place on the floor, and Connor fully realizes how truly _dead_ he looks. His skin is sheet white, eyes sunken in and baggy, like a ghost. Hollow cheeks, raggedy hair. 

His baby blue sweater is off, and chucked over to the corner of the tiny motel bathroom. But that's not where Connor's eyes wander to.

There's... there's a wound. Connor would know that mark anywhere, with the two lines of holes lining his lower arm, red and swollen. It's a bite mark. And somehow, Connor knows Kevin didn't inflict it himself.

He feels nauseous, and he finds himself reaching for the sink countertop- the towel rod- the walls, even- just _something_ to hold onto when the rest of his world is falling apart.

"Oh my god," he moans. He could puke, he's so ill. 

"Connor..." Kevin whimpers, but flinches when his boyfriend reaches out to him. 

Connor retracts his hand back, fighting the bile rising in his throat.

"How long have you... when did this happen?" Connor cries.

"S-same time as Arnold," Kevin chokes back, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Connor stumbles towards him, but Kevin scoots back frantically. He plasters himself against the bathroom wall, pressing his wounded arm to his chest.

"No! I- I can't control myself anymore, Con," his boyfriend cries, "I don't wanna hurt you."

Sinking across from him to the floor, Connor hugs his knees to his chest. He's unable to stop shaking- the world won't stop spinning.

'Kevin was bitten by a zombie.' It keeps playing on repeat, the words are screaming in his ears.

He can't hear Kevin sobbing anymore, begging him for forgiveness. His head lulls back against the door, and he can't even fight the dizzying darkness threatening to swallow him whole.

.::.

They drive out together on a fine morning in the punch-buggy towards the outskirts of town. It's quiet.

Connor hates the quiet. The quiet always means something dismal. Like the death of Naba and Arnold. Or the zombie apocalypse that has swallowed the nation.

"Remember our first date?"

He blinks, startled by Kevin's sudden intrusion into his thoughts. His boyfriend sounds nervous. They both are. Neither of them are ready for this.

"Which one?" Connor retorts, "Because the _first time_ you're thinking of is when we went out to dinner with Arnold and Naba."

"No, I meant the real one. When I actually asked you out."

'Why is he so happy about this?' Connor thinks, uncomfortable with the feelings stirring in his gut reminding him of what was really going on. But he swallows his fears, wipes his damp eyes, and offers a faint grin.

"If I recall, I asked _you_ out, because you were too clueless about your own feelings to do it yourself."

"And I brought you a bouquet of tulips, with a pink glitter bow, because you always had a thing for pink."

"Had? I like to think I still do."

And they laugh. Another stray tear runs down his cheek, but he sucks in a shaky breath and exhales quickly. He's missed this kind of banter. Their hopelessly romantic talk. When Kevin wasn't sick, when Connor wasn't worried. When they were happy.

Happiness only exists in daydreams and memories now. It sends a stabbing pain to Connor's chest just to think about it. 

"We could've had it all," he says, "You know? We could've gotten married. And had kids, and been like Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka."

"I know." Kevin says.

There's a long pause of silence, and Connor bites his lip. His throat is too swollen now to speak, his eyes burning with fresh tears. Kevin's hand finds its way to his knee, and he strokes up his thigh.

"It's okay."

Connor shakes his head violently, choking back a sob.

"I love you," Connor cries back. Kevin smiles through his own tears, and nods.

"Not as much as I love you, Connor." he murmurs back.

They reach their destination, pulling off to the side of the abandoned highway. Kevin unbuckles first, but they are slow to action on the matter of actually getting _out_ of the car itself.

They hug for an eternity by the bumper. Connor fists his soft shirt, breathing in as much of Kevin's scent as he can.

"I'm not ready," Connor wails. "Kevin, I can't-"

"You can." Kevin says, "you can do this. I love you, so, so much."

He's soaking tear stains into Kevin's shirt. It's probably ruined now, but Connor clings to it like a lifeline. 

His boyfriend doesn't stop him. Connor's sure he can feel tears dampening his own hair, but perhaps he imagines it.

"You remember what I told you, right?" Kevin says, his voice shaking. 

Connor nods slowly, and Kevin opens the trunk.

The gun is heavy in his hands, the lighter is a weight in his pocket.

Kevin stands on the other side of the wooded clearing. He's trembling, his eyes red with tears. Connor chokes back another sob, shaking his head profusely.

"I can't. I can't, I can't-" he cries. 

"We have to, Connor. We- there's no other way. Please. I wanna go happy."

'Happiness doesn't exist anymore. Not without you,' Connor's mind screams. The gun is shaking in his grip, as he loads the bullets and turns off the safety.

He sobs a little harder, and the tears are so thick that the world is a bit blurry around him.

"I love you." Kevin says, "I've loved you since the first day I laid eyes on you. Do you- do you remember, the day before this all happened, when campus was so peaceful, and-"

"And," Connor interrupts, "the sun was... it was beautiful outside, and we were talking about... about having kids one day, and how stupidly happy we could be? You'd made a picnic."

"You would've been such a great parent," Kevin continues, "You know? You're the only person I could've ever wanted to marry. I had a ring."

Connor gulps, wiping his eyes again with the back of his hand.

"But the dorms were evacuated, and I lost it. I was, I was gonna propose." Kevin admits, "but I guess that doesn't matter now."

"No, it... I love you so much. I love you, Kevin." 

Kevin grins. Connor raises the gun.

"I love you. You're gonna be okay. And me too. I can't wait to see Arnold and Naba again." he chokes back, as still as a statue. 

"I love you." Connor repeats. "I will always love you, okay? I don't... I don't wanna say goodbye."

"It's not goodbye. Nothing lasts forever, I promise. I'm always gonna be here."

There's silence on both ends. Kevin closes his eyes, steadying himself. He opens his mouth to say something more, and then-

Bang.

Connor drops the gun seconds later, his hands shaking profusely.

Kevin Price slumps to the ground, unmoving. 

"Kevin?" 

There is no response.

"...Kevin?"

Brown eyes jerk wide open at an unnatural rate. But they're not Kevin's. Not anymore.

_"You're gonna have to burn my body too, okay? So I can't hurt you. Promise you'll burn it when I'm gone."_

And that's all Connor needs to the light the match, toss it to the corpse ahead, and slowly step back as the flames grow brighter.

It's never a goodbye. Nothing lasts forever.

**Author's Note:**

> (Whoops I angsted all over the place with this one.)
> 
> My tumblr is mischief-broadway.


End file.
